Plan B
by KatiTheGiraffe
Summary: It is a time of peace in the wizarding world, but how long can that really last? Reports of mysterious men in dark cloaks and masks have steadily been surfacing all around Europe for the past 11 years. On William Braxton's 11th birthday brings the knowledge that he is a wizard...and that he knows virtually nothing about his life before he and his father moved to London years ago.
1. Chapter 1

William hated dinner parties. Well, it wasn't that he hated them, so much that they were, overall, very disagreeable to him. All the stuffy politicians sitting around politicking, and their spouses sitting about gossiping was utterly boring in a five year olds eyes. Every time he saw his nanny come in (interrupting his afternoon cartoons, mind you) holding a smart (and uncomfortable) little suit and tie, and his father arrived in the doorway to give him the "this is a very important night for daddy" speech, William knew he was in for an extremely boring night.

Upon arrival, people would whisk about him in their fancy dresses and suits fawning over what a handsome young boy he was- and that he was.

William's dark black hair contrasted starkly with his pale skin, and when in a suit, looked as if he had stepped right out of an old black and white photo. He hadn't quite grown out of his baby fat, a fact that women and men of these parties exploited to no end with the incessant pinching of his cheeks.

As the foyer and sitting room of the Braxton manor grew alive with chatter, the bell was soon rung for dinner. William would go and eat his fish fingers in the kitchen while the adults would eat in the dining room. This particular evening as his father carried him into the dining room to bid the guests good night, Lady Fitzler (a rude and boisterous woman, the wife of one of Sir Braxton's parliamentary friends) remarked loudly "He is such a darling boy, but he looks nothing like you Eric! You sure he's yours?" provoking laughter from the entire table. It was not a mean laughter, but William was affected by it nonetheless. He had always known he looked different from his father, but he hadn't really noticed all of the differences until that night; his fathers patch of light brownish hair was nothing like the inky black mop atop his head; his grandmother had even remarked that when his father was young, he would scream and yell and kick when he did not get his way- but William was the opposite. He would appear to comply to his caretakers wishes, then proceed to charm his way into getting what he wanted. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he and his father were nothing alike.

All of this new information was too much for a five year old to bear and he dug his head into the crook of his fathers neck, clutching him tightly. Eric Braxton, sensing the shift in his sons mood, swiftly bid everyone goodnight for him and saw him upstairs, into the hands of the nanny.

Later that night after all of the guests had cleared out into their limos and fancy cars (some into taxi's that had been called after a long trail of empty glasses had been spotted following them throughout the course of the night), William's father stopped in to bid his son goodnight. With a brief "goodnight William," and flick of the light switch, he had already set off down the hallway when he heard the sound of an anxious, "Daddy…daddy.." from his son's room. He stuck his head back into the room and replied "Yes?". Staring at his hands, William found himself tearfully asking,"Daddy, why don't I look like you?". There it was. The question Eric Braxton had been dreading, especially since his wife…no. He would not, could not, think about her, not after what she had done to them. With a heavy sigh, he took a seat on the edge of his sons bed.

"Well…" he hesitated "Do you remember your mother William?"

Face scrunched in concentration,trying to scrape together memories of a woman he barely knew, he replied "I remember that she left…and you were really sad…".

"But do you remember what she looked like?"

"No…not really. Is that bad?" William asked looking at his father with wide eyes.

"Of course not. But she…you look like her".

"Really?"

With an uneasy smile, Mr. Braxton replied "Yes, really". With an air of finality he patted the top of his son's head and bid him goodnight. From behind him he could hear the faint murmur of an "I love you", but he did not turn around. Sighing to himself he shook his head and sat on the edge of his bed thinking that this was not the time for his son to know the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

He was late. Again. Yet, this was to be expected when your father was a top candidate to become prime minister of Great Britain. Anyway, it's not as if William wasn't expecting it…he just wished that his father would be on time for his birthday once. Just once.

William was celebrating his 11th birthday with a small group of school "friends"- they were more of acquaintances really. His father was convinced that he needed to start making real friends (when William had said that Martha was his friend, his father said that his nanny did not count). Mt. Braxton had gone on to say that it wasn't normal for a child his age to have no friends within his age group. His father proceeded to phone a few of his upper crust friends who had children that went to William's school and extended an invitation for William's birthday party; it was a pool party, complete with a bouncy house and dessert table he was sure Mycroft Holmes would die over.

The school that William attended was a private school most of the important children of politicians or socialites attended called St. Rudolph Academy. It wasn't that the other children didn't like him- quite the contrary; people were naturally drawn to William. His abundance of charm and how he was genuinely kind to everyone he met attracted people. Although he could make others do what he wanted with a few choice words, he was painfully shy. Which was why William never vocalized his concern that strange men in cloaks had been watching him.

When he finally decided to tell his father, he received a startling reaction.

His normally calm and resolute father's eyes widened and filled for a split second with what looked like panic, before quickly composing himself. The next day he talked to William's principal and it was arranged that Martha would be hired as the school's new home economics teacher, although William wasn't sure what good Martha would do against the creepy strangers. He didn't want to admit it, but he actually liked having Martha there at school with him, it was nice to have someone he could talk to. Naturally, he knew that hanging out with his nanny at school would do wonders for his social life, so he was perpetually friendless. He didn't mind though, he just liked to watch everyone. William would remember how his dad would take him out to the beach in the days after his mom had left; no warning, just a "hey buddy, how about you and I go to the beach today?", and they would drive the two hours it took to get to the British shore. He loved to sit there and watch the adults and children enjoying their day, thinking of what kinds of lives they may be living while his dad sat and read some heavy volume.

Anyway, William found himself sitting on the edge of his pool alone while a dozen or so ten and eleven year old boys and girls, dressed impeccably even though it was a pool party, ran around the luxurious lawns of the Braxton Manor, discussing who liked who and how unfortunate it was that their parents made them come...as they stuffed their faces with desserts and pushed each other for a turn on the moon bounce. At that point Martha announced that it was time for cake and all the children rushed forth to sing William a half hearted happy birthday before grabbing their own slices of cake. When offered a slice, William declined saying that he was waiting for his father.

The second half of the party passed as uneventfully as the first. As the children filed out with their goody bags with a breezy, often mumbled, "Thank you for having me" into the cars of their parents and babysitters, William found himself still sitting in the edge of the pool surveying the aftermath of his party. The trash that littered the lawn and the few shoes by the moon bounce that he was unsure how children forgot were illuminated as the sun retreated behind the tree line and the now orangish, pinkish sky slowly darkened.

"I'm home!" Mr. Braxton called into the seemingly empty house as he set down his briefcase in his office before continuing into the kitchen. Eric Braxton was a man who was not known to 'call out', but he figured since he had (once again) been late to his son's birthday, it was qualified. Upon entering the kitchen he saw two slices of uneaten cake on the center island and found Martha standing at the sink washing a plate with a worried sort of look on her face. Every so often she would glance up through the window with a sigh and then continue scrubbing at the plate.

"I didn't think I was that late."

Martha turned and motioned with her head at the window in front of her.

"He's been sitting there since the party started. I tried to get him to go and play with the other children, but he just wanted to sit there."

Rolling his sleeves up and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Mr. Braxton stated "I am a horrid parent. He doesn't even like parties."

Smiling, Martha replied, "I know. But he adores you anyway. Now go make it up to him." She motioned to the two slices of cake on the counter.

"Martha, what would I do without you?" he asked.

"Crash and burn."

As he turned to leave, Martha grabbed his arm and looked him squarely in the eyes. With a look of pity she, whispered "good luck", then returned to washing the few dishes that were left in the sink.

Grabbing the slices of cake, Mr. Braxton continued out to the pool area with a growing feeling of dread. How was William going to react? Taking off his shoes and socks and rolling up the legs of his crisply ironed pants, he sat on the edge next to his son and stuck his feet into the now cool waters of the pool. Handing William a slice of cake he said "Happy birthday."

Biting into his cake, William looked at his father with a grin and said "Is this your present to me? I've never seen you get anywhere near the pool."

Chuckling, Mr. Braxton replied "Lets not get hasty, it's just my feet." With a sigh he continued "William, before you say anything, I just want you to know that I deeply regret missing your birthday."

With a smirk William awkwardly hugged his father with a plate of cake and a fork in each of his hands saying "It's alright, I know that you're busy and that you were just looking out for me".

"William I-"

"You know what would be fun? If we went to see Corfe Castle! I've heard it's brilliant, or at least I've read that it's brilliant-"

"William I have something very important to-"

"I've always wanted to see the Isle of Man, although that might be a bit far for a birthday trip-"

"Enough!" Mr. Braxton exclaimed.

William immediately shut his mouth, looking down at his knees as he anticipated his fathers announcement.

"William, I didn't mean to sound harsh-"

"No, it was my fault sir, I was babbling."

"William… "

"Honestly" William replied looking his father in the eye, "it's fine."

After a moment of silence Mr. Braxton produced a letter from his back pocket and handed it to his son.

"William, we have some things to discuss."

"About what?" he replied, looking curiously as the strange looking envelope in his hands.

"About… everything I suppose."


End file.
